A Hiccup-y Scrapbook of Memories
by Bog-Burgling Camicazi
Summary: Little glimpses of the years of Hiccup and Stoick's life leading up to the events of the first movie.
1. How To Name Your Newborn

**Birth**

Hiccup was an early baby. Viking baby predictions weren't exactly spot-on, but no for a second believed that Hiccup wasn't early. Stoick liked that. Berkians liked their kids to come out on time or late, but Stoick thought it was just like a true Viking to come out early. Stubborn enough to refuse to stay put and adventurous enough to want to see and explore the world before he was ready.

His wife was a little worried, the baby was small, as most early babies are, but he wasn't. His son was _his_ _son_, a fighter and he just knew he would live a long, great life.

His son had come out with quite the scream. It was a good sign, or at least Stoick hoped. He wondered if his new boy's lungs would last into adulthood. He felt prouder imagining his son giving the biggest, loudest war cry of them all.

Two days later the baby was asleep in the living room, and Gobber came down to visit him for the first time. He was given order after order back at the forge, so he really didn't have time to stop by.

He was pleased when informed the baby was still unnamed. Stoick wasn't surprised that he wanted to name his newborn. When asked what Gobber wanted his name to be, he went quiet. The thought was exciting, but actually doing it was frightening, Stoick knew. If Gobber picked the name and his son didn't like it, it was much easier to tell him Gobber picked it than to sit in the awkward silence that would follow the sentence, "I named you…"

"He's a little hiccup, isn't he?" Gobber said fondly.

Stoick quietly nodded his head in agreement, wondering if Gobber was actually going to name him.

"No matter what his name, I'm going to call him Hiccup," he continued. "Ah! Name him Hiccup, Stoick! It fits him, and it'll ward off gnomes and trolls!"

Ignoring the gnomes and trolls part, Stoick wasn't sure of the name Hiccup. "Do you think he'll like it, though? I don't want him complaining to me about it." He was actually more concerned that he would blame him for the name Hiccup, but that was better left unsaid.

"He'll love it! And this one's not going to have time to complain to you."

"What?" He didn't know if elaboration would be a good or bad thing here.

"Never mind." Gobber turned back to the baby and Stoick knew that no matter what he said or did, he now had a son named Hiccup, and despite all his worries, he was okay with that.

**This is a first chapter. There'll be fifteen chapters, all leading up to the first movie. This is less of a build up to the movie and more of the ever-evolving relationship between Hiccup and Stoick. We'll see what I want to do after the fifteen chapters, although it wouldn't make a whole bunch of sense to keep going after. The next chapter is when Hiccup's a year old, so I'm debating on whether i should make it about his first steps or his first words. Maybe guys can help me out with that. **


	2. Left Foot, Right Foot

**Year One- Left Foot, Right Foot**

Stoick had to admit Hiccup was a little small, and that he was maybe possibly not _exactly_ as strong as other Vikings, but he really wished the kid would quit crawling around and get up. He was almost two and still on all fours. He'd already gotten the hang of talking, earlier than most of the other kids in fact, but he could not get up.

Stoick didn't even know if he was trying. He looked like he was, but the man strongly suspected Hiccup was only putting on a show. It was great that his son was intelligent and all, but couldn't he walk a little bit? He didn't want to pressure Hiccup into doing something, but did it count if Stoick was sure he was perfectly capable?

He avoided bringing Hiccup out to see the village, since having your child follow you around like a dog- _literally_- wasn't the greatest thing for your reputation.

He did his best to make sure that the boy's constant crawling didn't dictate his opinion of him, and it wasn't always hard. On cold nights, Stoick would sit in his chair and Hiccup would sit on the ground beside it, and they would watch the fire together. Stoick would look at the flames and think of his problems and his son and chief responsibilities, and he assumed Hiccup would think something along the lines of, "_Fire…_"

During these nights he would forget Hiccup refused to walk, he would just be the little boy staring into the fire. He would be _his son_, sitting next to him, staring into the fire. It wasn't exactly how he'd imagined having a child would be, but in some ways it was better (though, he'd imagined having a wife with him, so it wasn't _entirely_ better).

He tore his eyes away from the mess of orange and red to look at Hiccup. Hiccup, as if feeling his gaze, turned to look at him in return. He had giant green eyes, ones almost too big for his face. His skin was drenched in freckles and there was a mop of auburn hair on his little head. He wasn't the poster child for Vikingness, but Stoick had come to terms with that, _mostly_.

The fact was harder to accept when you knew he wouldn't walk.

"Can't ya just take a little step?" He uttered quietly.

The boy understood the words perfectly, and looked at the ground, almost in shame. He sort of felt bad for saying those words, but couldn't tell why it was wrong.

"Okay," Hiccup said. He lifted his head and grabbed Stoick's chair in attempt to pull himself up. Stoick couldn't tell what he was doing for a second, then watched as his son tried to walk. _Just for him_.

Hiccup got up off the ground, and held the chair as he put his left foot forward. Then his right foot, then left foot. Soon he was at the end of the chair, but attempted to keep going. Stoick realized before it happened that Hiccup would fall. He got out of his chair and took his hands.

He looked up with his giant eyes, almost looking like he was about to yell, "I can do it myself!" But he didn't. He looked straight ahead, and again put his left foot forward. Together, Hiccup walked.

_Left foot,_

_Right foot,_

_Left foot,_

_Right foot_

**This was a good idea. I figured I should do Hiccup's first steps, since his first words would be… I dunno, I can always do that later. I don't have any specific reason on why Hiccup refused to walk, just use your imagination to think up a reason. Then tell me, because I don't know. **

**Also review, because then I put out chapters faster. Any ideas for his second year? I… don't know. **


	3. See You Tomorrow

**Year Two- See You Tomorrow **

**I don't know if this chapter really belongs in this story because it's half Stoick, and then the rest is Hiccup and Gobber. If it's disappointing, tell me. **

Since Hiccup was born, Stoick hadn't gone on a single hunt. For two years he put Spitelout in charge of the nest hunt, and their usual unsuccessfulness was even more unsuccessful. He was planning on putting off hunts until Hiccup was five, minimum, but Gobber convinced him that he would take great care of the heir.

Luckily, his first hunt since Hiccup was only two months long, but it was two months too long. They were only a day away from Berk, but it felt like an eternity to him. He used to love the thrill of a quest, but all he could think about now was whether or not there was a raid, and whether Hiccup was safe.

Every second was spent regretting his decision of leaving Hiccup behind. He wished he had at least brought him along, even though he would probably be in more danger on a hunt than a raid.

He probably didn't look like the brave chief they were used to following, and every time he talked their would be a nervous stutter here and there. Sometimes he would lose his train of thought completely, which wasn't a great thing during dragon attacks. The bottom line was, he needed to get back to Berk.

Back on Berk, Gobber wasn't exactly having the time of his life with the chief's son. Stoick didn't mention how much of a little handful Hiccup was. He wasn't scared of Gobber, he never seemed to get tired, and for a two year old, boy was he destructive!

"No! Put that down! That's not yours!"

The boy had found a small dagger and was running around with it, the blade dangerously close to his foot. Hiccup giggled at Gobber's words, almost like he was taunting him, and Gobber wasn't too fond of being taunted. He tried his very best to keep his anger in check, but that wasn't working out too well.

But then, _oh_ but then, clumsy little Hiccup turned, fell, and the blade of the dagger slid right across the skin of his ankle. Immediately, the toddler sat down and began to wail.

"Oh _no_."

So then Gobber had to leave the crying child alone in the big house (a chance he was taking there, and he wasn't too happy with his odds), and go all the way to the other side of the town to get a teeny amount of bandages.

When he got back, he found the boy asleep on the floor, right where he was last crying.

"That makes my job easier," he muttered.

He felt it was unnecessary to be bandaging a cut so small, but Stoick would never let him hear the end of it if he didn't, _infections_ and such.

He sat the boy down in the largest chair in the room, Stoick's chair, and savored every moment he had without the burden of Hiccup's antics.

**I don't know if this was a good place to stop. Review, I update faster if you do! **


	4. Something Right

**Year Three- Something Right**

**Slight spoilers for HTTYD2. Only mentioned a little bit, but if you've been avoiding them… it's not that big. **

Ugh. Stoick should've seen this coming. He had a child who had a mind that was developing and he was going to make his own choices. Choices that weren't going to please. Choices that were going to defy his orders.

Was it supposed to start at three? Was it even supposed to happen at all? In fact, it had happened when he was only two, too. Maybe he's been doing something wrong. Maybe something's wrong with Hiccup.

_Maybe I'm overthinking this. _

"It's fine. He's fine," he said to himself.

He was walking home from a long day of solving people's petty and not-so-petty problems, and he wasn't really looking forward to coming home to his own.

Every night he would come home to a house that was incredibly messy with a three year old sitting in the middle of it all. Then, said three year old will refuse to clean the mess that was way too big for him to have made in the first place.

Eventually it would cleaned up, mostly by Stoick, but nonetheless.

"Well you couldn't have expected him to be an angel, Stoick," Gobber told him once. He had ignored him then, since, at the time, his friend was downing his fifth mug of mead, but now he realized that maybe he was thinking a bit unrealistically. Was he expecting a perfect child? Did he set unreasonable standards for Hiccup?

Of course not, he's three!

This seemed to be his go-to justification when it came it came to any and all Hiccup related reasoning. Was that bad?

He stopped right in front of his front door. He took a deep breath and prepared himself, it was always worse than the day before. He opened the door to find the dirtiest, messiest-

Cleanest house ever?

"H-Hiccup? Are you home?"

He blinked a few times, as if expecting a mess to appear before his eyes. Was he dreaming? He was dreaming.

"Daddy?"

The toddler came bounding down the stairs like a puppy thrilled to see its owner come back.

"The house is… uh, clean today," Stoick said.

"Mmhm," the boy confirmed.

"Why… is it clean today?"

"Because I don' needa' make a mess now."

Stoick didn't know what that meant, but decided he would never know, even if he asked for an explanation.

Hiccup walked across the room, bored with the conversation, and climbed into the chair next to Stoick's. He curled up in the chair and rest his head on one of the arms of the chair.

He wasn't sure what was going on today, but he liked it. He made them both dinner, and after eating it, Hiccup immediately curled into the same position.

Stoick didn't really know what to do, and began to absentmindedly inspect his axe.

"What do you need tha' for?" He heard Hiccup ask.

"Dragons. Killing dragons," he answered.

Hiccup's face scrunched up. "Why do you needa' kill them?"

"Because dragons aren't good. They steal our food and destroy our houses."

Hiccup looked like he was thinking very deeply.

"You'll kill them too, one day," he told him.

"Why should I?" He asked.

"I told you, they're bad."

"But maybe they're not really. Maybe they jus' wanna ea',"he reasoned.

Was this happening? Was this _really_ happening? Was Hiccup arguing for the dragons? Was he actually making reasonable- if not naive- arguments.

No, no, he's not. He's _not_. He's still a child, a toddler. He probably doesn't even understand what Stoick's saying.

And they certainly were not reasonable arguments. Dragons weren't just hungry. They were vicious and mean. They were ruthless and _took Val_. In the end, he knew it was her belief that dragons could be good that separated them, and he didn't need the Hiccup to meet the same fate.

Still, he was three. He didn't understand. He only knew that they existed. He was over thinking again.

"Daddy?"

Stoick turned to look at his son.

"I'll kill dragons if you say they're bad," he told him.

Stoick smiled a small smile.

Even if his son did sympathize with dragons, moments like this assured him he was doing something right.

**Well… it's, uh. This is too sappy for me. Maybe not for you… Next chapter it'll be less so. He'll be four, and we're going into the ages where I can actually do stuff with Hiccup so he's not just a smart little cutesy toddler. Review!**

**Utterly unrelated, but this chapter is just as disgustingly short asthe others, I know, but next chapter I'm hoping will 1,000. **


	5. Home Alone

**Year Four- Home Alone**

**I thought four would be easy. Dang it. **

Hiccup woke up to an empty house, but it was fine. It was always empty. Stoick decided if Hiccup could walk and talk as well as an adult, then he could take care of himself for two or three hours everyday.

Although, it was the first time he left Hiccup alone in the morning.

His dad had always told him, "Breakfast is the most important part of the day," so he was more than a little disappointed when he found his "most important meal of the day" was stale, hard, and a little fuzzy. He climbed onto the chair and stood up on it. He tapped the "food" with one finger. Then again, harder. Pretty soon, his meal was splattered on the floor.

He contemplated the horror the was his intended breakfast on the ground, and wondered if he should clean it up.

There'll be time for that later, he figured.

He was still hungry, and no was was he picking up his dad's cooking from the floor and eat it.

Instead, he climbed up to the shelf with the good food on it and tried to get it down. He felt the shelf start to teeter, and without a second thought, he jumped off. That was all it took for the unsteady shelf to tip over.

It broke a little, but not completely. That was okay.

He reached through one of the holes and grabbed whatever he felt. He was a little disappointed when all he grabbed was bread, but he couldn't reach anything else. He glanced at his other option- which was starting to attract flies- and ate the bread in two bites.

Now done with breakfast, Hiccup got up and walked over to the closet that was reserved for his toys. Stoick tried his best to keep the closet locked, but nothing worked. By this time, he given up altogether and the closet was left for Hiccup to open whenever he pleased.

He inspected every toy he owned to figure out what he wanted to play with, and what would be cast aside. Finally done with the toys he could reach, Hiccup moved on the two shelves on the top. Since there were no shelves to climb beneath them, he pulled over a chair and stood on top. He picked the toys he wanted on the lower shelf, but was still too short for the top.

He jumped and grabbed the bottom of the top shelf and swung his legs up to the lower. He had to crouch so that his head didn't hit the ceiling, which made it harder to concentrate on not letting go. Realizing he couldn't inspect each of the toys, he took one arm and had sweep all the toys on the shelf to the ground. Pleased with self, Hiccup started his way down. He took his feet out of the shelf and allowed himself to dangle for a while. Trying to figure out his next move, he decided to move his grip on the top shelf to the lower one. He did this with his other hand, and when he was sure the chair wasn't too far below him, he let go.

Unfortunately for Hiccup, he landed on the edge of the chair. Quickly, his balance was lost and he fell over, scraping his foot in the process.

Though tears were forming, Hiccup didn't cry. This was third time this week he scraped his skin, possibly the millionth time this winter.

Knowing the drill, he limped his way to the kitchen and pulled a roll of bandages from one of the cupboards. He bandaged himself quickly, and in the process made a mess of bandages, just for fun.

He gathered the toys he had picked out and started reenacting last night's raid. Or, what how he thought last night's raid was. He was hiding under a table for most of it.

Suddenly he felt very tired. He crawled into his dad's chair and took a nap.

And that is the story of how Stoick found his sleeping son in the middle of a giant mess.

"I have _got_ to stop leaving him at home."

**HAHAHAHAHA. This is my new favorite so far. What Hiccup does when Stoick leaves him alone! It's not as long as I hoped… :(. They'll be longer? Review and stuff… I ****_will_**** update faster if do. **


	6. How To Stand Up For Yourself

**Year Five- How To Stand Up For Yourself **

Stoick didn't know if it was just Hiccup, or if it was the other kids, but his son never seemed to get along with the other children.

"Daddy, I didn't do anything! Snotlout threw mud at me and Tuffnut took Fishlegs' book and gave me a paper cut," the five year old pouted.

"And what did you do?"

"Nothin'," he said, looking down.

"_That's_ why they push you around, Hiccup. You have to stand up for yourself. Show them you're strong!"

Hiccup nodded and trudged off to bed, forming a plan on the way up the stairs.

The next morning, Stoick was just cleaning up when Hiccup woke up.

"Can I have that?" He heard him ask, referring to the cloth Stoick was using to wipe.

"Why?" He learned to never ever trust Hiccup with anything.

"Um, I just need it. It's a project."

Hesitantly, Stoick gave up the rather large piece of cloth, feeling like he'd done something terribly wrong.

The young boy eagerly took it and then walked over to his toy closet and pulled out one of his stuffed animals. The head was attached to the rest of the body with rope, and Hiccup patiently untied it.

The rope was about a foot or two long, and it was beyond Stoick what he was going to do with it.

Hiccup then started to dig through his toy closet once more, and pulled out his yak toy. It wasn't very good and it looked more like a Terror than a yak.

Taking the bundle of supplies in his arms, he walked to the door and pushed it open with his back. "Bye Daddy!"

He didn't like the feeling he was getting.

Hiccup took his supplies and set them aside. He pulled the cloth out of the small pile and spread it out. He then set out to look for rocks, making sure to collect only the bluntest ones. He put them in the middle of the cloth, then he raised the corners of it and held them together. He took the rope and tied the cloth into a small bag.

He picked up his new bag-full-of-rocks and the yak-Terror toy and ventured to the edge of the woods, where he knew Tuffnut and Snotlout always played. With both items under his arm, Hiccup climbed a tree. It was harder than usual with the load he was carrying, and his did slip and fall a few times, but he kept going.

"I'll have revenge _and_ new battle scars," he said to himself proudly. Once he got to a high enough branch, he dropped the stuffed animal to the ground.

After waiting a good ten minutes (_torture_!), he heard Snotlout and Tuffnut.

"Look! A Terrible Terror!"

"Let's kill it!"

_Finally_, Hiccup thought to himself.

When the two boys reached their "Terror", they were confused to find a toy instead.

"This isn't a Terror!"

"It's a dumb toy!"

"Well I'm going to keep it."

"Hey, why do you get to keep it? I saw it!"

Hiccup, pleased that they were so distracted, took the rope of the cloth and watched as all the rocks tumbled down.

"Ow!"

"What happened?"

"Success!" He whispered.

He was so incredibly amused, that he started giggling. Giggling a little too loudly.

"Who's that?

"USELESS!"

"Well you told me to stand up for myself," Hiccup said after he was finished explaining the situation.

"I didn't tell you to drop rocks on them!" Stoick argued.

"But I was standing up for myself, too. It counts."

To be completely honest, Stoick was proud of Hiccup. He got some good old-fashioned revenge. It was a little less than traditional, but it was smart and rather tactful, which he believed was exactly the path a chief should take.

He wasn't entirely sure why he was discouraging it, though. He had a feeling it was what a good parent would do. Besides, it wasn't like Hiccup would actually listen to him.

"But then when they realized it was me, they couldn't get me because I was too high up!" His son giggled happily.

Stoick smiled a little. He did have a smart little one.

"But also because of the blood…"

_Odin_.

**This was cute. I was looking forward to this one. Still disgustingly short, but I need an idea that a can stretch out. I don't know which age I should do the sick chapter, but yanno, whenever I feel like it I guess. Also it was requested. Now I feel like I should get around to it. **

**REVIEW! I'll update faster!**


	7. Trolls

**I know, I know, this is less than okay. In my defense… I've got nothing. School? Nope. Well,enjoy the show, because I might take five years to upload again. If youve read my other story, "Maybe it was Trolls", you know that was Hiccup who started Gobber's obsession with… fairy tales? By suggesting that his socks were being stolen by trolls. This chapter'll won't have perfect continuity with that story because here Hiccup's six and it says he's eight in that story… but who cares amiright?**

**Year Six- Trolls**

It had been a couple weeks since Hiccup had started apprenticing for Gobber, and Stoick decided to give the boy a break and take him fishing.

He was worried about the amount of time Gobber and his son were spending together. Gobber was relatively insane, and Hiccup was only a child with an underdeveloped brain. Gobber could develop it really wrong. Hiccup already came home talking about trolls, and while Gobber insisted that Hiccup made up that story, you couldn't blame him for doubting that. Immensely.

Hiccup, on the other hand, appreciated the effort, but thought fishing sounded really boring. Sit around and wait for fish to bite? No thank you.

Besides, it didn't even sound all that Vikingly. How was he supposed to be the greatest Viking warrior to ever live by fishing? How was anyone going to do that?

Stoick gave him what he needed to fish and explained what it was he had to do. To be honest, Hiccup didn't hear a word of it. When it came time to actually fish, he got a little excited. After all, they were Vikings. Maybe what he understood fishing was actually isn't what it is. Maybe it's super awesome and exciting.

But it wasn't. He just sat against a rock with a stick in his hands. He was actually falling asleep. He did want to enjoy time with his father, but it was so boring. How could he?

He almost fell completely asleep when he heard rustling in the bushes behind him. "What was that?" He muttered to himself. He something blue and furry hidden in the leaves, and knew he just had to check it out. But… his dad did seem like he really wanted to do this with him. His dad could look over, see him gone and be absolutely heartbroken.

Oh well.

Glancing at his dad, who was really into this whole "fishing" thing, he set his rod down against the rock, and crept quietly over to the trees behind them.

He took long, quiet strides for a good twenty feet until he was hidden within in the forest. He looked over to the bush with the furry thing in it,t empty. He was about to leave when he saw a blur of blue and purple zip past him, and recovered from the shock quick enough to start chasing.

He ran and ran, deep into the forest. So deep, that if he weren't so focused on the troll, he'd have realized that he could easily get lost.

Finally the troll ran through a bush. Hiccup tried to get through, but there was no getting past it. It was too tall to see over, let alone jump over, and there was nothing for him to climb. He couldn't go around it because next to it was another bush, nearly identical. In fact, there were many of these bushes, making a circle shaped fence.

Thinking quickly, he climbed the nearest and tallest tree. Speedily, he reached as high as he could go and sat atop a branch that hung over the circle. He was quite a distance above the ground, but that didn't scare him. He was mostly discouraged by this fact because he couldn't see the trolls well. He could make out they were not very big, about the size of a cat. They were blue with a purple strip that stretched from their nose and thinned along their tail. They walked on all fours, and to be honest, he imagined trolls to be a lot different.

He heard crack. It wasn't his branched, but the branch above him.

_Snap_!

The branch fell and hit him on his left side, making him lose his balance on fall. He fell an distance, wildly reaching around for something to hold on to. Finally, he grabbed on to a branch ten feet from the ground. He felt it tear into his skin and implanting splinters. Blood oozed out but he wasn't too worried about his injuries at the moment.

The trolls saw him. And they were not happy. Their eyes glowed red and their tail were straight up in the air. They were in a stiff stance and he could tell they were made.

_Oh great_.

Swinging on his branch, he hauled himself up. And jumped down behind the bush and ran. He could hear the trolls following him. They didn't have very long strides like Hiccup did, but they were _fast_.

Running aimlessly into the woods, he realized he didn't know where to go. _Just run_, he told himself. _Get back to dad, get to the village, get somewhere. _

He saw the end of the forest. Peering closer, he realized he had finally gotten to the village. He was happy for a full second, until he realized he couldn't take the trolls to the village. He didn't know what they were capable of. They could tear everyone to pieces!

He made a sharp turn. The trolls were agile and quick, and it didn't throw them off. Hiccup was hoping that by this time the trolls would get tired, but it was Hiccup who was getting tired. He was losing energy and fast.

He had a great amount of stamina for his age, but it was not enough. With a great burst of speed, he ran as fast as he could. Not being able to continue, he fell and rolled. He rolled right into a tree, where he decided was a good place to be eaten alive. Sighing, he realized he _would_ die. _Today_.

Closing his eyes, he accepted it. He would die.

He heard the trolls getting nearer, and then screeching.

Wait… what?

He didn't think trolls screeching… _dragons did_.

After his episode with the trolls he forgot dragons even existed! Never in his life did he think he would be so happy to know dragons were around, for just an ounce of something familiar. _This_ is how he would die. A dragon.

He sat up against the tree, watching the Terrible Terrors and catching his breath. It was grousome, but the dragons ripped the trolls to shreds. Realizing he was probably next, he got up and ran in the direction he remembered the village being in.

Sweating and breathing heavily, he ran up to his house. Inside his father was waiting for him.

"And where have you been?"

Panting, he replied,"Trolls."

**Welp. There ya have it. Trolls. I was thinking about Stoick saving him, but then he would know about trolls so… also, after writing this, I realize that it doesn't mess up this story's continuity with "Maybe It Was Trolls." Not that the continuity actually matters…**


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